


Exploration

by Tommyrot



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, I Don't Even Know, Idiots in Love, M/M, Softcore Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:28:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28613616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tommyrot/pseuds/Tommyrot
Summary: In which Hashirama tries his best and Madara is confused.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara
Comments: 7
Kudos: 44





	Exploration

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again!
> 
> Madara is OOC in this, but to be honest we had like three scenes about him in Hashirama's memories, so do we even have a personnality to work with that doesn't include wanting to make people live in a big-ass dream? Plus his personnality would probably not be the same if izuna had lived, so. Idk. You tell me. I feel like I gave Bakugou Katsuki's personnality (except at the end) and its fcking hilarious, makes me want to write him in that style.  
> I tried to write something just a tad bit more realistic and fluffier, let's see how it goes :)

When Madara had finally agreed to Hashirama’s incessant requests for a date, he had not expected this. Well, he had been expecting the romantic evening, the dinner in a newly opened sushi restaurant in Konoha main street, the hand holding as they walked among the blossoming cherry trees, the dopey smiles Hashirama kept sending him and being quite aware of the approving smiles of the citizens they passed by. Two men had even cheered, making Hashirama laugh and curl his arm around Madara’s waist, while the latter glared at them strongly enough to make them choke back their words. That had not happened twice. Madara had let Hashirama’s arm stayed where it was, but that was because it would be a pain to make the Senju smile after the depression he would have when Madara moved his arm, and absolutely not because the Uchiha liked the feeling of it. Even after dating for six months, Madara was proud to claim he had not softened to the touch of the idiotic Hokage. The white-haired bastard had smirked when he heard that, to Madara’s confusion. Weirdo.

What he had not expected was to be shoved against the door as soon as they walked into the Senju’s house for a late tea before going back home. His hands pinned above his head and his mouth invaded by the other’s tongue, tasting the sake Hashirama drank for dinner. His whole body was pressed against Hashirama’s bigger one, and for fuck’s sake he hated their height difference. Now, Madara’s 5’9” was common among the Uchiha clan and he never felt particularly small even if Izuna had surpassed him by one inch, to his otouto’s greatest delight, but Senjus were notoriously tall and broad and Hashirama was a prime example of them, towering over Madara at his freaky 6’3”. The Uchiha had taken to wearing platform soles and making his hair spikes even bigger to compensate that fact, not that he was ever going to admit being bothered by it.

But Madara was really feeling the height difference right now, and he would deny to his dying day that his cock was interested in the way he felt cornered by the Senju’s big body. Gasping in surprise at Hashirama’s roughness or as much as he could with his mouth busy, causing him to drool a little, he kneed the other man in the nuts. Hard.

\- What the heck, wheezed Hashirama, polite even in pain, letting go of Madara’s hands to cup his crotch and stepping back.

Finally able to enjoy his personal space again, Madara took a deep breath and wiped the saliva of his chin.

\- What the fuck? What the fuck?! Don’t jump on me like that ever again, you fucking animal! He roared.

Turning around to open the door and get the fuck out of the house, Madara was once again shoved against it, albeit much more softly than before.

\- Don’t leave yet, please, whined Hashirama in a pleading tone. I’m sorry, I was just… so happy we had such a good time, I forgot myself. I apologize.

Madara took a second to appreciate the warmth at his back before growling:

\- Don’t stand at my back, fucker.

But it lacked the bite of true anger and Hashirama knew it, curling his arms around the other man.

\- Will you stay? Please? The Senju asked, breathing his question directly into Madara’s ears, making him shudder slightly.

Madara relaxed under the pleasant touch before getting a hold of himself and elbowing the idiot in the guts. Once again, Hashirama wheezed, this time with his hands on his stomach and bending a little in pain. Madara never hit gently.

\- I told you not to stand at my back, he growled while turning around to face the other man.

Hashirama, as the God of shinobi, was obviously not really hurt. Physically, at least. He lowered his head, and his face took on a caricatural look of misery. It was even more ridiculous than when he had been a child now that he was a grown ass man, and that was saying something.

\- Sorry, he cried. I’m such a bother, I’m so sorry.

Madara was aware the other was playing his sadness act, but to be honest, he could never stay mad at the Senju for long any way. He sighed, inwardly cursing the stupid emotions he should be used to suppress by now. He wasn’t the best shinobi on earth for nothing, for fuck’s sake! Well, second best, but that was only because the other was a freak. He sighed loudly.

\- Alright, I’ll stay, he drawled irritably.

Seeing the cloud above Hashirama’s head disappear in less than a second, he sighed again. What was his life anymore? At least the happy puppy look suited the Senju better. Not that it warmed his heart or anything. Absolutely not.

\- But none of the freaky shit like you just pulled, or I’ll cut your dick off, he threatened on second thought.

Hashirama nodded enthusiastically and smiled wide, a perfectly innocent look on his face. Hid his game well, that one.

\- I promise! He said in a cheery tone. Come on in, let’s get some tea!

The Uchiha just let out a classical “Hn” and followed him. The Senju lived in a big house right in the middle of the village, one he built with Mokuton like most of the Konoha houses, and the interior was unsurprisingly filled with plants. It was cozy though, and Madara much preferred it to the house he shared with Izuna and his wife in the Uchiha district. Hadn’t those two ever heard of silencing seals? It was unbearable how Naori could scream. 

Hashirama was whistling while pouring the herbal tea, the nice smell relaxing Madara in the soft cushions disposed on the comfortable tatami. They drank their tea while quietly conversing about the upcoming marriage of Izuna and Naori, laughing when Madara recalled the way his otouto proposed. The poor man had almost fainted from stress beforehand and passed out when she said yes. His otouto could be really ridiculous sometimes. Without the Uchiha noticing, Hashirama progressively got closer to him, using all the techniques he knew about approaching a wild animal. When their laughter slowly died out, he took the fine porcelain cup from Madara’s hands delicately and posed it on the low table. The ravenette only let out a little “Tch”, and Hashirama took it as a victory. He took the other man’s chin in between his thumb and forefinger and turned his face towards him before slowly approaching his own, their lips barely separated by an inch of warm air. Seeing as he hadn’t been punched yet, the Senju joined their lips as gently as he could, emboldened by Madara’s compliance.

His right hand, previously holding the other man’s chin, slid down to support himself on the tatami while he leaned more and more on Madara, his other hand cupping the smaller man’s jaw. When he felt the Uchiha respond to his kisses by moving his lips hesitantly, his hands coming up to grab Hashirama’s kimono tightly, he hummed appreciatively to cheer him on and let his left-hand slide down, caressing his clothes-clad chest and sides to end up on Madara’s right hip. Hashirama licked the Uchiha’s lip in asking for entrance and slid his tongue inside the other’s mouth when he gasped slightly as the Senju tickled his hip lightly. Not as much as he did when they came into the house, he didn’t to scare Madara again, but simply letting his own tongue touch the other’s, coaxing it to move in response. He couldn’t help but smile when the Uchiha let out the quietest little moan Hashirama had ever heard. That was a mistake, according to the fist presently in his face.

\- Do not laugh at me! Madara barked, jumping on his feet.

\- But I wasn’t laughing at you, Madara, Hashirama whined, holding his bloody nose and quickly healing it. I promise! I was just very happy and couldn’t stop smiling!

The Uchiha eyed him suspiciously before huffing. That seemed like the sort of thing the Senju did so he could forgive him, reluctantly of course. Hashirama was very sad to see his make out session cut short and Madara was half relieved, half disappointed. He never knew what to do during those and that stressed him out, but he liked them a little. Just a bit.

\- I should leave now anyway, he grunted, crossing his arms. It’s dark already.

Hashirama was devastated.

\- No, don’t leave yet! You could sleep here if you want!

\- But you only have one futon, replied Madara questioningly, speaking slowly as if talking to a five-year-old.

The Senju pouted, upset with his tone.

\- That’s okay, it’s a two-person one. Plus, I heard Naori is back from her mission, and it’s better to leave her and your brother some time alone, don’t you think?

Hashirama perfectly knew why Madara was showing darker eyebags when one of them returned from a mission and intended to use it to his utmost profit. The ravenette seemed to think about it, and the Senju cheered inwardly, knowing it was in the pocket.

\- Alright, but don’t you dare steal the covers from me or you’ll sleep on the ground, he finally agreed.

\- Of course! Hashirama beamed.

\- And no freaky shit! Madara added, repeating himself.

After all, it hadn’t been respected.

\- Not even a little? The Senju pleaded.

\- Hashirama, warned Madara.

\- Alright, alright! He promised in a placating tone, hands in the air to signify his innocence.

Unfortunately for the other man, or maybe fortunately, Hashirama was far from innocent and had no intention to keep his word.

As they went upstairs to wash their teeth and get into their sleeping yukatas, the Uchiha borrowing one from his host, the Senju was planning. Oh, it was going to go perfectly, he thought as he prepared the lubricant to be at hand’s reach from the bed. When he saw Madara in his clothes, oversized on his smaller frame, his dark eyes glaring at him daring the Senju to comment on it, he almost jumped him right there and then. Sage, the Uchiha was too hot for his own good, with his red cheeks and his plump mouth for once not hidden by a monstrously high collar, his milky white skin contrasting with the dark green cloth and his small, scarred hands, finally devoid of the gloves, clenching it tight to prevent it from falling open. Well, small in comparison to Hashirama’s own, at least, but that was the case for almost every Uchiha he came across. He never noticed the general height difference between their clans when they had been on the battlefield. But Madara appeared even smaller now, he noticed, intrigued. He hadn’t seen his enormous shoes yet, and the Uchiha intended to keep it that way.

Hashirama grinned wide and jumped into the futon. And alright, maybe it wasn’t exactly a two-person one, but it was a big one, and he had put two pillows! Ideal for cuddles. And more, if his plan worked. Supporting himself on his elbow, the Hokage tapped on the place beside him and looked up at Madara, who rolled his eyes but had an amused tilt to his mouth. So cute.

The room was pleasantly dim, barely illuminated by strategically placed candles Hashirama had just lit, and Madara slipped into the comfortable futon with a contented smile. This was nice, despite the annoyingly large yukata that trailed on the ground when he stood. It wasn’t such a bother when he was lying down, but he just knew what Hashirama was thinking, his usual dopey smile firmly in place. Madara was absolutely not flattered by the knowledge, not at all.

They were laying side by side, almost touching, the atmosphere was relaxed and just a tad bit tender as they looked at each other, thinking about how handsome the other was, none of them saying it, albeit for different reasons. Madara because he would rather die than be romantic, and Hashirama because he was going to die if he dared to be. It didn’t stop him from raising his hand to caress the other’s cheek, making Madara sigh and relax more into the sheets.

\- Cuddles? The Senju whispered, not wanting to break the ambiance.

The Uchiha hummed in agreement, his eyes closing as they squirmed closer to each other. Hashirama curled his arm around the smaller man and tilted his hips just right. Madara’s eyes opened brusquely.

\- Hashirama, he said.

\- Hmm?

\- What is that.

The brunette smiled at the non-question.

\- What are you talking about? He asked innocently.

\- Hashirama, the other man growled.

\- Hmm, the Senju said again.

\- Is that your dick.

They still weren’t moving, but the air was now charged with tension, Madara’s body tense and ready to bolt.

\- That is my dick, Hashirama finally admitted in a serene voice.

Madara fled the embrace as quick as he could, which meant really quick.

\- What the fuck? He hissed, teeth bared and threatening.

Hashirama sighed and smiled at him.

\- Sorry, just a physical reaction. It’s okay if you don’t want to do anything about it, don’t worry.

\- As if I would! Madara snapped. And I’m not worried!

Hashirama could giggle in delight at seeing everything go exactly according to his plan. He did not, because he valued his life.

\- It’s ok to be afraid, Madara. We don’t have to do anything until you are ready.

Hashirama knew it was won when he saw the Uchiha turn red with anger and embarrassment.

\- As if I am afraid! And don’t tell me what to do, bastard! Madara flared. I could do it right away!

\- Oh? Hashirama said, raising his eyebrows. Then what is stopping you?

The ravenette grit his teeth and looked away.

\- Nothing! I…I just… he hesitated.

Hashirama had an inkling to what was stopping Madara, in fact. The Uchiha clan was known to be more conservative then the Senju, which meant no sex before marriage for men and women included. They were also more than slightly homophobic and sexist, even if that was slowly beginning to change at the cohabitation of the open-minded Senjus. That was partly why Hashirama had courted Madara for two whole years before asking him out, and why they haven’t done anything below the belt for six months since. 

And really, Hashirama completely understood where the other was coming from, how far he had progressed, especially with his complex about being the more “womanly” of the two, and the one that would be dominated in their relationship. Big fat-ass bullshit, the Senju thought, when he was feeling particularly sexually frustrated. He himself had experimented sex in about every sense: with women, men and one who refused to be called either of those, submissive, dominant and about all of the positions one could think of. He knew that being the one penetrated did not mean being submissive, nor that being feminine meant being dominated, nor that there was anything to be ashamed in liking either of those. Now, at twenty-seven, it was more than normal, but he was aware Madara was a complete virgin because even his kisses were clumsy, and he cringed from the slightest contact that could be interpreted sexually. Not that he was aware of what sexual intent looked like. Hashirama still remembered how the Uchiha had proudly claimed to Tobirama: “As if I would ever get soft to your brother’s touch!” when his otouto had meanly mocked him about Hashirama’s PDA, the bastard. The double entendre was so obvious, even the openly sexual brunette had cringed. Tobirama had just smirked at Madara’s confused face, happy to be able to laugh at the Uchiha without him even knowing about it, but the white-haired man was an asshole just like that. Hashirama had rubbed one out after that, thinking about a strong and pale body and spiky blue-black hair.

No, Hashirama knew what he liked. He preferred to be dominant, though submitting once in a while was really pleasant, and did not particularly enjoy being sodomized, but it did not bother him. And, well, he did not know yet what Madara would like and doubted the Uchiha knew that himself, but Hashirama loved him like he had never loved anybody else, and even sexual incompatibility would not change that. He could pray, though. Madara would look wonderful legs spread wide and screaming his throat out. Or letting out the quiet whimpers Hashirama had heard when they kissed really nicely. Or the groans he let out when the Senju bit his lower lip or gripped his hips tightly. He would also look great bouncing on a cock, or bend on the Hokage’s desk completely naked, his mane of hair held tightly in Hashirama’s fist and his back arched and…

Alright! Anyway.

Hashirama also knew that Madara would never make the first step. It was just not in his nature; he did not make it for the truce nor the village construction, he did not make it in their relationship, not initiating it and not kissing him unless prompted. The Senju was a tad bit bothered by that, because if Madara could express his love a little more it would be nice. Not that he doubted it, of course not, the Uchiha would never had agreed to this without being completely on board, but even Hashirama had his insecure little moments when he needed a reassurance or two. But he could be patient. Oh, so patient. And just a tad bit manipulative, only to coax him the right direction of course. He still felt guilty about it, but after two and a half years he knew it was the only way Madara could ever breach the matter of sex willingly. Even then, the lack of obvious consent unsettled him, and he vowed not to abuse it, only progressing in the physical aspect when Madara would feel like it. He didn’t care if that would take years, or if he would never fuck him or gain sexual satisfaction from it, he just wanted his partner to feel a little more at ease with a natural side of himself, one he had repressed for so long.

Hashirama approached the smaller mand enough to whisper in his ear.

\- Don’t you know how to do it? 

If Madara’s cheeks had been red before, his whole face quickly took on the same color up to his ears (“Cute”, Hashirama thought) and he fumbled with his words, moving away until he was at the edge of the futon.

\- What?! Of-f course I do! I’m, I’m a g-grown man…

A non-virgin person would have asked what “it” was, but Hashirama smartly did not comment on that.

\- It’s okay if you don’t… I could show you, the Senju whispered.

That made Madara pause his squirming and fumbling to look at him. Hashirama felt his heart clench at the lost look on his face, fear, anger, embarrassment and hesitation in the dark eyes. It wasn’t the first time Hashirama had initiated sexual contact, but this time felt different; they just had their first public date, announcing to everyone how serious they were about each other. But despite the progress, he knew that if he asked the Uchiha’s explicit consent now, he would not answer and flee, going back to square one. So he didn’t, feeling extremely guilty about it but still convinced it was the right thing to do. Surely Madara would punch him the face if he really didn’t want to, right? Still, it wasn’t, so he added.

\- Tell me to stop if you want me to, alright?

Perfect. Not as demanding as asking if he wanted to be touched, but still offering him an out at any time. Madara gulped, staring at him, and made the tiniest nod, but it was enough.

\- Wouldn’t you come closer? murmured Hashirama, spoking softly as to not scare him out and careful not to make his words sound like an order.

The soothing atmosphere helped, and Madara inched toward him slowly, still looking straight into his eyes. The Senju knew how much trust he asked of the other right now, and could only give it back that way, staring right into the Uchiha’s biggest weapon, trying to convey all his love with his eyes. He was sure it looked weird, but the two of them were almost in a cocoon, nested in the heavy blankets and speaking softly in the dim light of the candles, and he did not care. 

When Madara was almost close enough to touch, Hashirama reached with a hand and softly caressed his cheek, in the same gesture he had made earlier but so much more charged now. The other’s hands were clenched tightly on the sleeping yukata he wore, his whole-body tense in the same way of a frightened animal ready to escape.

\- Kiss? The Senju continued in the same soft-spoken manner.

Once again, Madara nodded slightly, not moving to get closer but not away either. Hashirama stayed on his side instead of pushing himself on the Uchiha like he really wanted to, figuring that the smaller man would stress less if he wasn’t crowded. He approached his face, still caressing Madara’s face, and softly kissed him, moving as delicately as he could. He emboldened when the ravenette sighed through his nose, relaxed by the now familiar contact, and licked his lower lip, asking for entrance once again. His hand slid from Madara’s jaw to his shoulder, massaging slowly, then his side, still just as gentle. The Uchiha tensed a little but exhaled a relieved puff of air when the hand stopped above his hip. Their tongues were playing with each other, the two men moving their faces to ease the awkward angle due to the horizontal position. Hashirama sat up a little, just enough to still lay down but bearing his weight on his elbow to angle himself better while Madara turned on his back, not breaking the kiss. Then, he withdrew his head to watch his partner open his eyes lazily.

\- Can I open your yukata? He whispered softly, not wanting to break the ambiance.

The Uchiha stared at him intensely again, and nodded when he seemed to find his answer in Hashirama’s eyes, his breathing just a bit shaky with nervousness. A normal person wouldn’t even notice, but Hashirama was a shinobi and he could very well read body language. The Senju smiled to reassure him, and slid his hand from his side to the knot closing the clothes. He carefully untied it, and the sides opened to expose Madara’s body. Hashirama was usually not the kind to be excited for something so mundane as a naked body, but he hadn’t touched anyone but himself in two and a half years, and even if he was far from being completely hard already, the shaky exhale coming out of his mouth was still more than his normal reaction. The smaller man was scarred, muscled and even paler below his clothes, rarely enjoying the sun without them, his little pink nipples inviting and his cock already hard due to his inexperience. He had little body hair, surprising considering the mane on top of his head, some on his chest and thickening around his navel to end up in thick dark curls on his happy trail and nesting his penis. It was objectively small, with barely three and a half inches long, but wide and nicely shaped, Hashirama thought. His size kink felt a bit satisfied by the discovery that the Uchiha’s length wasn’t even half of his own, but he pushed the feeling down. Madara would probably be offended.

\- You’re beautiful, Hashirama said with a dopey smile.

That made Madara finally react, “tch”ing grumpily and punching him playfully, but his cheeks were reddening, and he didn’t cover himself right back up.

\- Sappy fucker, the Uchiha muttered, the corners of his mouth twitching. 

Hashirama laughed good heartedly and the air was a little less tense.

\- Can I touch you? He asked again, still smiling.

This time, Madara nodded a little more earnestly than before. So the Senju resumed kissing him again while he slid his available hand on the other’s skin, flicking a nipple. Madara gasped a little in his mouth and Hashirama left it to move his lips down the Uchiha’s jaw, kissing and lightly nipping his way down his throat. The ravenette gave the tiniest moan, more of a loud exhale than anything, when the Senju sucked very delicately on the sensitive skin of his neck, his hand still caressing Madara’s chest and belly.

He tensed again when Hashirama’s hand darted lower, playing with the thick dark hairs of his happy trail, and inhaled sharply. Everything was so foreign, even the slightest touch too much on his burning skin. He was embarrassed to find himself completely hard so soon, his breathing short and feeling scared to move, to do something wrong. Madara knew that, at his age, his inexperience was abnormal. But he had never wanted to marry, having known from a very young his affection laid on the other gender, and relations before marriage weren’t exactly allowed in his clan. So he had always restrained himself. Until Hashirama. Until the village, and the different views of the Senju. 

When Madara first saw two Senju women kissing each other, he was shocked, and a little worried for them. If an Uchiha woman was found having relations with another female, she was sure to be expulsed from the clan. But Hashirama had laughed at his expression and told him it was okay. Told him Madara was okay, in a sense. He fled that day, not wanting to face his emotions.

And so it became one of the rules of the newly made Konoha, overruling the clans’ jurisdiction. No person loving another from the same gender would be exiled from the village. And slowly, oh so slowly, the Uchiha had adapted, the first couple being Hikaku and Masamune, two of the highest profile members from the clan. There had been protests, of course there had been, but Madara and Izuna had quieted them quickly, with the surprising help from other clan members. That had made Madara feel a little bit more comfortable among them.

Then, Hashirama began courting him. Madara wasn’t stupid, he knew what that was, even if it had never happened to him before. No matter it was Izuna that had pointed it out after three months of finding his best friend’s behavior weird. Whatever. His otouto had it easy, happily married to pretty Naori. He didn’t have to deal with hiding gay feelings for his childhood friend! Madara had had trouble with accepting Hashirama’s attempts, had had trouble with accepting who he was for years now. But when six months ago the Senju had promised he wouldn’t bother him anymore, Madara didn’t have the strength to resist his feelings anymore. He had grabbed Hashirama’s hand and whispered “Don’t give up on me yet. I need some more time.”, afraid to be let down for his egoism. The Senju had smiled the happiest grin Madara had ever seen, and the Uchiha had fallen a little bit more in love. He hadn’t known it was possible.

But it was difficult for him, to be so vulnerable. Around anyone, really, but maybe even more Hashirama, because Madara cared about his opinion. Still, the Uchiha knew the other man had been waiting for him for a long time, and he himself wanted to experiment. So he didn’t flee this time. He didn’t flee even when the whimper he let out when the Senju slid a finger down his length mortified him, he didn’t flee when he bucked up his hips in Hashirama’s grip around him, trying to swallow back his moans and clenching his eyes shut tightly.

Hashirama knew how inexperienced the other was, but it still surprised him when he felt precum ooze out the tip after joining his thumb and forefinger together in a circle around the other’s small dick. They wouldn’t even need the lube he had hidden in the sheets, at this rate. He slowed down his ministrations to savor the man’s reactions, still kissing Madara’s throat and sliding down his collarbones then his chest, wanting to see if the Uchiha would like that. When the other arched lightly and couldn’t suppress his surprised moan, Hashirama was pleased and kept on licking and sucking the puffy nub.

Madara was squirming violently and couldn’t stop his panting now, hands grasping the sheets tight and muscles clenching, feeling his orgasm come up on him quickly. When had been the last time he had come? Probably when he was still a teenager, waking up from a dream with dirty sheets. It had to have been at least ten years, if not more. 

\- Ha-Hashirama, he wheezed, panicking a little but his mind too clouded with pleasure.

\- Shh baby, it’s okay, let go, the other whispered as he quickened his hand on Madara’s dick. It’s okay.

Madara didn’t even think about being offended about the nickname, nor the condescending behavior. In fact, it had made heat curl in his belly and his breath catch in pleasure. That was the final straw. All his muscles seized, back arching, and his vision whitened for a few seconds as his semen shot out on his belly and Hashirama’s hand. He didn’t even realize the embarrassing cry he had made until he came back to himself, panting and sweating. He squirmed in oversensitivity when Hashirama didn’t stop the motion, raising a hand to push him away. He didn’t even have to, as the Senju let go of his now limp dick to reach over Madara’s body for a tissue, quickly wiping his hand then the Uchiha’s belly.

\- Good? he asked gently after a few minutes had passed.

Madara just hummed in agreement, sleepy and relaxed from his orgasm, not caring about the opened yukata. Then he remembered what had started all this and opened his eyes wide, turning to Hashirama. He looked down and gulped when he saw the big bulge under the dark green cloth.

\- Uh, d-do you want me to return the favor? The Uchiha questioned in what he refused to admit was a timid voice, feeling awkward with his choice of words.

Hashirama smiled softly at him when he had laid down again on the pillow beside Madara, and answered him in a kind voice:

\- I would love to, but it’s okay if you’re not ready yet.

The Uchiha was too tired by his orgasm to consider that as a challenge. He stared at the other man, and wanted to blurt out three very important little words. He restrained himself, knowing it wasn’t the right moment yet. Still, he felt a bit guilty to leave Hashirama high and dry.

\- Sure?

\- Of course, love, the Senju whispered as he drew the sheets up to cover their bodies.

The candles had not burned out yet, but neither of them wanted to leave their little nest at the moment. Madara shuffled closer to him after tying up his yukata again, and murmured:

\- Thank you.

Hashirama sighed contentedly and looped an arm around his partner, dragging him closer. Not as close as to touch his erection, though, because the brunette wasn’t a masochist. He knew further touches would take time, but they had progressed a lot tonight, and he was happy with what he had already.

\- You’re welcome, he breathed in the other’s ear. Good night, Madara.

\- Good night, the Uchiha answered just as softly.

They fell asleep quickly after that, feeling safe in each other’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if that deserves to be in explicit tho...
> 
> I'm hesitating to add some chapters to this, where Madara progressively becomes more comfortable with himself and what he likes. We'll see I guess :}
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
